


Othermorphs

by Churchydragon



Category: Alien Series, Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors
Genre: (Because a lot of the stuff that happened in Alien 3 was fucking stupid), (I mean technically it is post all of the movies), (This is kinda dumb tbh), (kinda), Alien Character(s), Alien Queen - Freeform, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Chestburster, Existential Crisis, Multi, Neomorph, Other, Parasites, Post-Movie: Alien (1979), Post-Movie: Aliens (1986), Rebirth, Xenomorph ocs, Xenomorphs (Alien), Yautja, agender character(s), trans male character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churchydragon/pseuds/Churchydragon
Summary: When people thought of Xenomorphs. The first thing that usually comes to mind are their elongated dome heads, their long barbed tails, their second mouth, or their acidic blood. People focus on the monstrous, the alien part of Xenomorphs. And why not? That's exactly what they are. Monsters. Alien beasts that use anything they can get their polydactyly hands on as hosts for their young.People forget to acknowledge the humanoid qualities of Xenomorphs.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Had this rolling around in my head for a while. Figured why not write it down.

When people thought of Xenomorphs. The first thing that usually comes to mind are their elongated dome heads, their long barbed tails, their second mouth, or their acidic blood. People focus on the monstrous, the alien part of Xenomorphs. And why not? That's exactly what they are. Monsters. Alien beasts that use anything they can get their polydactyly hands on as hosts for their young. 

People forget to acknowledge the humanoid qualities of Xenomorphs. 

 

Normally, a Xenomorph has no true mind of its own, not completely. The only one that could truly reach the same intelligence as humans is the Queen, the leader of the entire hivemind. There are several accounts of Queens showing understanding, true understanding, of human speech. There are even rumours of Queens communicating through what can only be described as telepathy to humans. 

Several stories detailing a Queen's sentience. But little to none that speak of how sentient the others are. What of the numerous but deadly warriors, protectors of the hive itself? What of the large and powerful praetorians, the royal guards of the Queens, or the swift footed runners that act as scouts for the hive? What of the humble drone, the first truly known class of Xenomorph? Are they close to the Queen in terms of mind and thought, or are they simply mindless workers, their only thoughts being of the need to obey their Queen? 

And what of the other Xenomorphs, like the horrifying Predalien? What about the Xenomorphs that just... didn't come out quite right, and kept more of their host than just genetic makeup with them? 

Perhaps, one day, that will be answered, when humanity is ready for it.


	2. Chapter 1: Birth and a Name

The first thing that it thought was a question. The question wasn't about anything in particular, or about one specific thing, though, no. It was a question that could be compared to someone looking around and gesturing at everything around them with their hands. The question wasn't so much about anything as it was about _everything._

Eventually the questions became more coherent. What was this? What is happening? Where is this? Why is everything dark? What are you? What am I? _Who_ am I? What is ‘living’?

 

It repeated these questions, along with several others, multiple times until it began to realize that it was not going to get an answer. Something about that felt wrong, _incorrect_ . There should be something-- no, not something, _someone_ explaining these things to it, speaking to it while not physically being present. A comforting, loving voice, a guardian, a Mother.

 

 But there was no Mother to be seen, no soft voice that it somehow knew should be whispering in its head. This frightened it. The voice was supposed to be there, telling it what to do in this warm, black abyss that it had woken up in.

 

 For a several minutes it began to panic, terror and confusion striking throughout its entire body. It began to thrash without realizing it, trying to feel where it was, wanting to see.

Then it felt something move. It felt slightly wet and slippery. Cautiously, it moved its body to the side, feeling for whatever it was touching. It was soft and squishy, and had a strange texture that it didn't have a word for. But it could feel it. That was definitely a step up (what was a step?) from feeling nothing at all.

 

It began to squirm some more, and as it did, scent and taste began to come to it. It there was an almost overwhelming smell of some sort strange, tangy scent. There was a similar smell on its entire body, it realized, and the tangy smelling stuff was in its mouth as well, overwhelming its taste buds with a coppery taste.

It began to get excited as it began to sense more and more, and its wriggling became more enthusiastic. It wanted to feel, smell, and taste more. See what this world had to offer it.

Suddenly the texture it felt changed. It didn't feel the squishy, slimy things or the weird sticky, coppery liquid. Instead, it felt something hard and smooth, and noticeably more cold than the other stuff it had felt.

Curiosity and excitement flooded through its entire being, and for first time since it was awake, it opened its eyes.

And it began to remember.

 

______________________________________

  * ●●



 

He didn't know how he kept getting talked into these things. Maybe it was because the twins had a really weird thing with words. Maybe it was because he, or rather, his host, used to do stupid things that got him into trouble before.

Or maybe it was because he was just an idiot. Somehow that seemed more likely.  

 

 Whatever the reason, it didn't change the fact that he was now currently hiding in a ceiling vent with a stolen corded telephone and a shit-ton of guards on high alert in a laboratory-base-thing. All because two questionably pretty girls dared him to steal the stupidest thing he could find in the base.

 

 God, he was an idiot. Why didn't he just grab a pencil and book it?

 

 There was nothing to be done about that now, though. Right now he had to focus more on

trying to get out, preferably without getting shot or giving the humans here a reason to want to call in for backup. It didn't matter if he was a warrior Xenomorph, his host-body hadn't been a fighter, and neither was he.

 

He began to crawl through the vents, making sure to stay as quiet as he could with a rather heavy telephone in one arm, and stopping when there were guards with motion trackers. Best to avoid letting them know he was even _near_.

It was only a after a few hours when he realized that he had no idea where he was.

 Great. Lovely. Absolutely _fantastic_. This was fine. He could still do this. He just had to find a map layout of the base, right? Then he could mosey on out of here and never come back. Simple as that.

 

 An alarm went off. _“Warning! Multiple specimen breaches! Recontain specimens immediately!”_

 

 Gizmo screamed in exasperation and slammed his head on the wall of the vent. God fucking _dammit_. So much for getting out quickly and quietly.

 

 He didn't bother with being quiet now. Whatever those specimens were, if they had an alarm that went off if they got out, the guards were probably going to be more focused on them than they were on Gizmo, and that was fine by him.

He could hear people running and panicking from outside the vent. Yelling and shouting at one another, or commanding that everyone stay together, don't split up, no where are you going get back here you're going to get yourself killed, I can't get into contact with Squad 4, oh god this can't be happening…

 

Gizmo ignored it, easily pushing it all into background noise. It was something he had some memories of his host-body doing, when he was trying to get work done. He didn't even need to force himself to do it, his mind just did it on its own like second nature. It probably was second nature. Don't focus on anything else, just focus on your job, your goal, focus on getting out.

His mind slipped momentarily, thinking of an older life, a life he used to have before the Facehugger got him. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough. Gizmo stopped paying attention to where he was putting his feet, and stepped a little too heavily on a grate. The grate, already loose from a rather concerning lack of maintenance, gave way beneath him.

 

 Gizmo shrieked as the ground suddenly disappeared beneath his feet. He instinctively twisted midair, attempting to right himself and not land in way that would get himself hurt. He didn't see exactly what he was going to land on, and fell right on top of whatever it was as a result. He let out another surprised screech as he crashed into the other being below, which let out an equally shocked scream.

 

There was a thud as the other creature, a human, he realized, fell to the ground at the sudden weight on their back. For a second, Gizmo just laid there, processing what had just happened.

The telephone, which had been precariously balancing on the edge of the grate opening on the vent, was jolted by the force of the human and Xenomorph hitting the floor, and fell through the opening as well, hitting Gizmo on the head and then clattering to the floor as Gizmo hissed in pain.

Suddenly Gizmo felt something pushing against him, and was then rather unceremoniously shoved onto the floor, on his face. Once again he shrieked, this time indignantly, and looked back just in time to see the human, a young woman in a white lab coat scrambling backwards away from him.

Okay. That was understandable. If he was in her place, he would have done the same thing. She had no way of knowing that he had absolutely _zero_ intentions of killing her, so of course she would freak out. Who in their right mind _wouldn't_ freak out if an alien fell on top of them?

 

He stared at her for a few seconds, pondering. He could either vamos out of here, or he could take a risk and try to communicate.

On one hand, he definitely wanted to run like the wind and never look back on this place. On the other hand, it would be nice to talk to someone else besides the twins. Although..

 

 He heard the stories. He had no hive himself, and neither did the twins, but he had heard the stories just like everyone had, alien or not. Rumors of some big cooperation studying and even attempting to weaponize Xenomorphs. This lady was a scientist. Was having a chance to talk to someone different really worth the risk…?

 

Gizmo turned away, picking up the telephone and looked around. He must have fallen into an office, judging by all the file cabinets and the rather fancy looking desk. Whatever. Not his problem. Where there's an office, there's a door, and the door was right next to him, calling his name. He moved for it.

 

 And leapt back as something banged against. Something big.

 Gizmo dropped the telephone, yelping as he jumped back from the door. That did _not_ sound like a human. It must be one of those ‘specimens’. They must be huge!

 

 There was another crash as the thing rammed the door again. Then another. And another. Each time Gizmo flinched, backing up slowly, desperately hoping that it wouldn't get in. The door, even made of metal, was beginning to strain. The thing was creating dents in the door.

 _‘oh god,’_ Gizmo thought in terror, _‘it's going to get in. It's going to break down the door and get in.’_

 

 He began to panic looking desperately around the office, trying not to look at the woman who was beginning to sob and scream. He glanced at the vent he had fallen through. If he could angle himself right, he could just jump back up into the vent.

There was a loud scraping noise that made Gizmo look back at the door just in time to see the metallic door break and fall, unable to take any more abuse, and revealing the beast behind it.

 

Gizmo's heart stopped. The lady screamed louder.

It was a Xenomorph. It had the characteristic ridged dome of a warrior class, but it was not the same size. The xeno was _massive_ , almost as tall as a Praetorian, and just as terrifying. It's exoskeleton was a dark, obsidian black, with a few paler black markings around its face and chest. Its long tail had vicious spines at the end of it, with a nasty, jagged, dagger looking tail blade. It seemed to have some sort of overbite, which honestly made all the more terrifying to Gizmo.

The large warrior looked around the room, sniffing once, and then looking in the direction that Gizmo and the lady was in. It let out a shrill shriek that bordered on a roar and lunged towards the two.

Gizmo's heart pounded. Fear flooded his entire system. Was this it? Was this how he was going to die? He didn't want to die. He already died once.

 

 Time seemed to slow down for Gizmo. How was it going to kill him? Was it going to pin him to the wall and sink its teeth into his neck and tear out his throat? Skewer him with its dagger tail, puncturing his organs and making him drown in his own acidic blood? Tear him apart, limb by limb, painting and burning the walls and floor with his blood and organs? Would it make it fast, and simply headbite him, killing his brain and body? Was he going to die quickly, or would it be slow and agonizing?

 

 The sharp black claws and fangs came closer, closer. Gizmo squeezed his shut. He didn't want to see his own gore.

 

 There was a shrill scream, and the sound of ripping flesh, but Gizmo didn't feel any pain. Was he already dead? He opened his eyes. There was movement in the left corner of his eye.

 

The warrior xeno had pinned the woman to the floor and ripped off her left arm. Blood was oozing from the would, red and copper, splattering onto the floor. The woman was desperately trying to push the large alien away from her, despite the attempts being in vain. She has in hysterics, screaming and sobbing, her strength ebbing away rapidly. She looked at Gizmo, and for a fleeting moment the two made eye contact. Gizmo froze.

 

 ...He could save her. Rush over and knock over the larger Xenomorph, catching it off-guard and giving the woman time to get away. He could be a hero, someone brave, worthy of being a warrior drone. He could help.

 

 Gizmo's body trembled. Before he could let himself think about it further, he turned and ran out of the room, trying to ignore the woman's cry of despair. He tried not to think about how the cry turned into a choked gurgle before abruptly cutting off.

 

 He wasn't a hero. He wasn't brave, or noble. He was just a technician and mechanic in a xenomorph body. He was a coward, and he knew that. Besides, helping would have undoubtedly gotten himself killed.

 He already died once. He wasn't going to die again if he could help it.

 

______________________________________

  * ●●



 

The more he walked, the more signs of fighting he found. Splatters of sticky crimson blood that coated the walls, and sickly yellow acid that had eaten through whatever it had landed on. Bullet holes on the walls, floors, and ceiling accompanied by large claw marks that dented metal.

 And then of course there were the bodies. Corpses of both guards and Xenomorphs scattered here and there, sometimes in several pieces, with organs strewn all over.

 

Gizmo tried not to think about how there were more human bodies than there were aliens. That was hardly a surprise anyways; the guards were probably hopelessly outnumbered and overpowered by the acid-blooded beasts. Outsmarted in some ways too, for multiple Xenomorphs was always smarter than one. He didn't need to be part of a hivemind to know that.

 

 Occasionally he saw signs of people having been dragged away from the area, still alive, which he knew likely meant that there was a hive, and the mindless drones were gathering hosts. That wasn't good, for both the humans in the area, or for him and his two companions. That meant he would have to tell them the bad news, and the three would have to move on somewhere else. Staying near a hive with a Queen was just too risky to remain in their current place of living. That was going to be fun news to have to break to the twins.

 Gizmo sighed in annoyance. Why did humans have to be so fascinated by Xenomorphs?

 

 Gizmo would have continued down the dark, bloodied hallway he was in, clinging to the ceiling like gecko, if he hadn't heard some strange noises. It sounded like someone gasping and choking, as though in pain. Gizmo narrowed his eyes; he knew what someone being killed by an Alien sounded like, and it didn't sound like whatever that was. Part of him was saying “no, don't investigate, don't look for it. Just focus on getting the hell out of dodge.”

 

 The other part, the more curious part, was demanding an explanation and wanted to find where it was coming from.

 

 Eventually his curiosity won out, and he began to track where the sound was coming from, which lead him to what looked like was supposed to be a mess hall. That was strange. Why would anything be hanging out here of all places? And more importantly, _where?_ Gizmo crawled down from the ceiling and back to the floor and stood up, looking around. He _knew_ he had heard _something,_ so where was it? He hadn't imagined it, had he?

 

 Something rustled behind Gizmo, and he stiffened. He quickly turned around, just in time to see a man wearing marine gear swing some sort of weapon at him. Gizmo screeched, and his body instinctively reacted before his mind could respond.

 

Gizmo dropped to all fours, effectively dodging the weapon, before twisting his body and swinging his tail at the man before he could stop himself. The was a cut-off choke, which was quickly followed by a wet, sick _crunch_ and the sound of tearing flesh. Then two thuds, one heavier than the other, and silence. Nothing but the ambiance of the room. Gizmo's stomach twisted. He felt something wet on his tail. He hesitantly stood up once more and looked at where the marine had been standing, and immediately felt sick.

 

 The man’s body was on the floor, with nothing but a heavily bleeding stump where his head should have been. Said head had fallen and rolled a few inches away, angled in a way so that it stared at Gizmo with dead, unseeing eyes. The eyes were dull and bloodshot, a cloudy haze beginning to settle over them and warmth began to ebb away. Like the stump, the head bled, although the blood seemed to be oozing out much faster.

 

[Gizmo gagged](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/412662067124764700/533366862814248960/20190110_135554.jpg) and looked away quickly. Oh god. Oh god. He had just killed a man. Not even inadvertently this time, he had sliced off the guy's _head_. He hadn't meant to do that, he just reacted and _murdered_ _someone._ Gizmo slowly sank to the floor, breathing rapidly; his heart and mind were racing, he felt like he was going to throw up. This fucked up. This so _so fucked up._

 

 He didn't know how long he sat there, panicking silently and struggling not to cry, but eventually he forced himself to stand up. He approached the body, and shakily leaned down and dug through the dead man's pockets until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a dog tag and a ID card. He stared at both before realizing that the name on both the card and the tag was so covered in blood and damaged by who knew what else that the name was impossible to read, to which he hissed in frustration. So much for trying to see if he could locate the man's family.

 

 He continued to search the pockets, before finding another card. A pilot's license, specifically jet planes. That was interesting, he supposed, but it still didn't really help him figure out who the dead man was. He sighed sadly before standing up. There was nothing he could do now, except hope that someone who knew the man could inform his family.

 

 Gizmo hissed an apology and turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of… something. He nervously looked around the mess hall, but saw nothing that could be making that strange noise. His gaze momentarily lingered on the corpse and shaking his head and scolding himself for even considering that the noise had come from a dead body. Zombies weren't real. At least, he hoped not.

 

 He jumped as the noise came again, louder this time, and accompanied by the sound of flesh ripping, coming directly from where the body was laying. Gizmo, despite himself, approached the headless corpse, hesitantly nudging it with his foot before pushing it over onto its back. He flinched back with a snarl as the chest suddenly pushed up, over and over, as though something was inside and trying to escape. Gizmo's eyes widened with realization, just as there was a particularly hard push that sprayed blood everywhere.

 

 Gizmo couldn't look away as the young parasitic alien inside pushed and tore its way out of the man's chest, screeching the entire time. Flesh tore easily as the Chestburster clawed and chew its way out, blood flying everywhere, the sickly sweet smell nearly overwhelming. At last, the small youngling cut free from it's old host, squirming and wriggling out of its old home. Then, to Gizmo's surprise, instead of slithering off, like most Chestbursters would, it froze, looking around as though in wonder, taking in its surroundings. Then it seemed to notice Gizmo, and it cocked its head.

 

 Gizmo startled as he felt a small tingle in his head, and then a presence. The presence felt new, young, and there was no denying that it belonged to the newly born Chestburster in front of him. The small mind began to ask a question. The question wasn't so much about anything as it was about _everything_ , feeling like the equivalent of someone waving their hands and then pointing to everything around them. Like what happened to Gizmo himself, when he had become conscious, the questions began to become more specific, more narrowed down. The first question Gizmo felt was a question about the Chestburster’s name.

 Gizmo stared at the small creature, taking in its almost jet black color. He then looked at the pilot's license in his hand. He looked back at the Chestburster.

 

  _“Your name is Jet.”_ , he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a little doodle I did for the scene with Gizmo's reaction to seeing the dead marine's head on the ground. Nothing fancy, just a little sketch.


	3. Chapter 2: Breaking News

_“All my memories gather round her_   
_Miner's lady, stranger to blue water_   
_Dark and dusty, painted on the sky_ _  
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye…”_

 

Val's tail swishes as she air taps her foot in sync with the beat of the song playing from the the mp3 player that was sitting on the boulder that served as a table to them. Occasionally, she trills, her version of singing, along with the music. She was the picture of relaxed as she perched on one of the branches of the huge hollow tree the three misfit aliens had made their home.

 

  Movement in her peripheral vision made Val look up from the mp3. She held back a sigh as she watched her twin sibling pacing across the ‘room’

 

  “He will be _fine,_ Zzzal. Cccease in your anxxxiety induccced walk, and come sssing with me!” Val hissed playfully to her sibling, who paused to glare eyelessly at her.

 

 “You have no way of knowing that, Val. Gizmo isn't like you and I! He won't attack humans to defend himself like we would! He could be hurt, or worse, captured by humans! What do we do then?” Zal growled back, white tail lashing in anger. Val gave a stuttering hiss at that, and Zal felt amusement coming from Val's side of the weak mental bond the two had.

 

  “Bold of you to asssume humansss could sssuceed in catching Gizzzmo.”

 

  Zal just shrieked and threw up her hands in annoyance, going back to her pacing while Val hiss-cackled. Sometimes her sibling was just impossible. Even when she was worried, she treated everything as a joke. Zal supposed that was part of why Val and Gizmo got along. It was something they both did, and it drove her up the wall.

 

  Val glanced back at her sister, her laughter dying down, and her mouth turning into a frown. She could feel the worry oozing from their mental bond, worry and fear over the younger alien. He was younger than the two twins, and unlike them, he was still mostly human, at least mentally. The twins had none of their hosts’ memories.

It was one of the many differences they had from him, besides their pale white bodies and the lack of any biomechanical characteristics.

 Val quietly climbed down the branch and approached Zal, her tail snaking out to tap the mp3 player to off, and placed her hand on her sibling’s shoulder and trilled gently. “We will wait for four more hoursss. If he isssn't back by then, we can go sssearching for him. Will that make you feel better?” Val asked soothingly. Zal looked back at her and nodded slowly, to which Val smiled at.

  “Four hours. Then we look for him. I'm sure he'll be okay either way.”

______________________________________

  * ●●



Back at the laboratory, things were far less peaceful. Gizmo had leapt up into a vent with Jet at the first chance he got, not wanting to stay out in the open any longer than he had to. It was a safer bet than being down low, where they were more likely to run into more humans and xenomorphs. As he quietly crept through the vents, the newly born chestburster, their tail wrapped tightly around Gizmo's right shoulder, bombarded him with more inquiries, asking what his name was, what they were crawling in and why they were crawling in it, and many, many more.

  To Gizmo's credit, he tried to patiently answer the questions while still focusing on his task, but eventually became fed up with the constant talking and not so kindly asked Jet to ‘please shut the hell up so I don't accidentally step on a loose grid again or get horrendously lost’, to which Jet grumbled at but went silent.

 Things were more quiet after that, if one didn't include the faint screams and gunfire. Other than that, the only other sounds were Gizmo and Jet's quiet breathing, and the soft scrapes of Gizmo's claws.

  Not answering questions gave Gizmo time to think, and right now, his mind was bustling with excitement. The chestburster, Jet, they were like him. They could think for themself, had the beginnings of a personality, a sense of self. They weren't like any other xenomorph he had encountered, the one track minded ones that rarely, if ever, even said the words ‘I’, ‘me’, and ‘my’. The only other xenomorphs he had met that _could_ think for themselves were Val and Zal, and they had their doubts that they even _were_ xenomorphs. Which honestly had left Gizmo feeling rather lonely.

But now he had found another like him. It was comforting, if he were to be honest. It gave him all the more reason to get out of this place.

 

 Gizmo didn't hold back his sigh of relief when he felt a breeze of fresh air coming from the path on his left. That meant there was a way that led outside. He picked up his pace, moving as fast as the confined space would allow, until he found it. He stopped, coming face to face with yet another grid, blocking the way outside. He smirked. Nothing he couldn't get through.

 

 Carefully, Gizmo turned his body so that he could easily grab his tail. Then, ever-so-carefully, he began to use his arrowhead shaped tail as a screwdriver, easily unscrewing the grid. Then, a little less carefully, he kicked the grid off the vent opening, and it fell down to the ground with a rather distant clatter. Gizmo watched it fall, estimating that the drop distance was about 10 or more feet. Again, not an issue for him, as he began to climb down after giving Jet a mental warning to hang on tightly.

 

 It didn't take long for the two to reach the ground. Once they did, Gizmo ran off like a shot. He was _done_ with this place. It was time to get out of here, and warn the twins.

 

 

 Oh boy. They were _not_ going to be happy about this.

______________________________________

  * ●●



Four hours. Val had said to give Gizmo four hours.

 Three hours had passed now, and there was still no sign of him. Zal was starting to pace again, becoming more agitated than before. Much to Val's chagrin.

 

 “That's it. I refuse to wait any longer. Adult or not, Gizmo is younger than we are, and thus our responsibility. I'm going after him.” Zal suddenly stated, her tone heavy with commitment and having the air of someone who would be very hard to sway. She dropped to all fours and sprinted to the tunnel that led out before her sibling could respond.

 

 At that exact same moment, Gizmo came crashing through the tunnel, resulting in the two aliens ramming into each other and falling into a confused pile of limbs with a small jet-black chestburster sitting on them like a cherry on a sundae.

 

 Val couldn't help it. The scene was just too ridiculous. She threw her head back and began laughing so hard, she fell onto her rump.

 

 Zal and Gizmo, meanwhile, began the complicated process of getting back up and untangling their tails, which caused the chestburster to gracelessly tumble to the ground with a offended shriek, which resulted in Val laughing even harder.

 “Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for the concern, Val.” Gizmo drawled in an offended tone, though his face was turned in a grin and his yellow eyes were full of good humor. Zal simply scoffed and pushed Gizmo to fall on his face, which earned another fit of giggles from Val.

 Jet slithered off a bit, curling up by the base of the tree, watching the three older aliens talk to each other. They were very strange, especially the softer looking white ones. They had no tubes on their backs, and lacked an outer rib cage. In fact, they seemed to lack an exoskeleton entirely. They also spoke entirely through vocal noises, rather than mental speech. Gently prodding their minds mentally revealed a sort of… barrier, for lack of a better word. It seemed to be effectively blocking any of Jet's attempts to communicate. Jet trilled quietly. Very strange, these two.

 For now, they were content to simply watch the three talk, even if they couldn't fully grasp what was being said. It would probably be explained to them later, and they were fine with that.

 Gizmo waited for Val to stop laughing and finished untangling his tail before taking a deep breath. Time to break the news.

 “So, uh, bad news, gals.” he started and was immediately answered with hisses from the two. “What did you do?” Zal growled out in a only _slightly_ threatening way. Val raised an eyeridge as Gizmo stuttered in offense before he found his voice. “The fuck, Zal?! What makes you think _I_ did something?!” he shouted, tail lashing and hands tightening into fists. Zal’s only reply was giving him a look that radiated the air of someone saying ‘Oh you know what you did’ without even saying it. Gizmo glared at her for a few seconds before nodding.

He _did_ do some pretty stupid things sometimes.

 Val made a sort of coughing noise, prompting Gizmo to continue. Gizmo muttered something, trying to think of how he should word what he was going to say before mentally going ‘ _fuck it_ ’ (which resulted in Jet suddenly snapping their gaze to Gizmo's direction in surprise), and went to the point.

 

“The place I went to ending up being a laboratory that had xenomorph locked up somewhere. They got out. Wasn't my fault.” Gizmo explained quickly before darting away into one of the little ‘caves’ made by the roots of the trees, and moving the some of the smaller roots to block the entrance like a curtain. He had just gotten to his makeshift desk and grabbed an old broken iPhone to tinker with when he heard Zal's less-than-thrilled shriek.

 

 He sighed sadly as he grabbed a Phillips screwdriver from his toolbox. This was going to suck.

 


	4. Chapter 3: Preparations and Life

Zal grunted as she dragged a large tree branch over to the entrance of their tree den. Val was gathering roots and vines, placing them above the entrance, and Gizmo using a very weak hive resin and mud paste to make them stick. Jet, who had just finished molting and could now make use of his limbs, was pushing dirt and rocks to the edges of the hole, and spreading moss, grass, and other vegetation around it to help further conceal the entrance. It was a team effort of hiding their home, which had needed a change of camouflage anyways. Val, Zal, and Gizmo had been planning on changing it for some time, and needing to hide their home from hive minded xenomorphs was a pretty good motivator, if also a frustrating and upsetting one.

 

 It also gave Gizmo a chance to tell Val and Zal about what had happened inside the laboratory. 

 

 “You shoulda seen the size of this bitch, she was  _ huge!  _ Almost as big as a freaking Praetorian, but the body of a warrior, and black as night!” Gizmo ranted, occasionally waving his hands wildly as he recalled encountering the warrior-praetorian.  _ Definitely  _ one of the most terrifying moments of his life. If not  _ the  _ most. 

 

 Val and Zal listened to him ramble. The two siblings enjoyed listening to him talk, whether it was an explanation of something that they didn't understand, some kind of story, or even just about his day and what he was working on. They enjoyed hearing him talk. It could help him calm down or stay focused, and made the twins feel more anchored and real. Before they met Gizmo, the only other voices they heard and were spoken to were each other. It was often somewhat lonely, but they both knew it could have been much,  _ much  _ worse. Had they had ‘born’ further away from each other, or, great beings forbid, only one been ‘born’, they likely would have slowly slipped off the deep end.

 

 The twins weren't entirely sure they were xenomorphs, but they did know that they were social creatures like xenomorphs were. And prolonged isolation was bad for social species.

  
  


 “From what you've told us about Xenomorphs, it's possible that the warrior you encountered was close to morphing into a praetorian. That would certainly account for its size.” Zal mused. Gizmo stopped to think about this for a few seconds, his eyes furrowed, or at least his equivalent to furrowed, deep in thought. Then he looked back at Zal and Val with a worried look.

 

 “A facehugger got to a marine. I found the guy on accident and, uh…” he paused. ‘ _ accidentally killed him by slicing off his head,’  _ he could say. But that was a horrible thing to say. Besides, he  _ really  _ didn't want to think about what he had done; the image of the man's decapitated head staring sightlessly at him still made him feel sick. Semi-parasitic alien or not, he was still mentally human, and murder still didn't sit right with him.

 

 “And that's how I met Jet.” Gizmo quickly continued, pointing at the young black burstling, who looked back at him at the mention of their name. They looked at Gizmo, then at the twins, before nodding curtly and going back to gathering foliage. They didn't have the sound for “yes” down yet. 

 

 The twins both looked at Jet for a few minutes, their nonexistent eyes seeming to bore holes into them. Jet's tail twitched in unease; they didn't like how it almost felt like the two white serpents were scanning them, looking for strengths, or weaknesses. It made them realize just how vulnerable they were, barely reaching Gizmo's knees in height. 

 

 He wished he was bigger, or better, he had a gun. Even if it was just a pistol, or hell, even a  _ knife  _ would make him feel a little safer with these bugs nearby--

 

 Jet's thoughts halted. Where had  _ that  _ come from? They knew what a knife was, but what was a  _ gun?  _ Or a pistol? And why did they think they would be safer with these things with them? 

 

 They shook their head and chittered, trying to clear these foreign thoughts from their mind. 

 

 Val and Zal watched, unaware of Jet's slight mental struggle. Then they looked at each other, hissing wordlessly at each other before turning back to Gizmo. 

 

 Val spoke first. “That isss mossst troubling. You you know if the humansss perhapsss were keeping eggsss sssomewhere, and when the dronesss got loossse, they got the eggsss out?” she questioned, each sound and word always starting and ending with a nervous hiss. Gizmo just shrugged weakly in response. “Val, I didn't even  _ know  _ they were keeping Xenomorphs there until that massive warrior broke down the door to the office I was hiding in. How th’ hell would I know there were eggs?” he asked helplessly. Val chuffed and looked at her sibling. Zal hummed worriedly. 

 

 “That leaves us with two possibilities. The first possibility is that the humans were keeping eggs, and the facehuggers got out. Hopefully this is the case.” Zal mused, earning a confused look from Gizmo. “Why, why's that seemingly the preferred possibility?” he asked. Zal turned her head and eyelessly stared into his yellow eyes. 

 

 “Because the second possibility is that there is a Queen.” 

______________________________________

  * ●●



The first thing she felt was some sort of soft, warm embrace, one that felt both physical and mental. She felt safe, secure, like nothing bad would ever happen to her, because something, no, not something,  _ someone,  _ would be there to protect her. 

 

 She almost shrieked when she suddenly heard a ‘voice’, one that sounded close, as though it was all around her. The ‘voice’ gave her kind soothing feelings, emotions that spoke of a powerful love and dedication to protect her. The ‘voice’ whispered to her, guiding her and telling her that she had to break free from something, to be free and alive.

 

 She listened to the loving, kind ‘voice’, letting it guide her as she bit and tore at the warm, wet, and squishy prison she was in. She ignored how the cage she was in began to thrash, and paid no mind to faint screaming that was getting louder as she ripped her way out. The voice continued to encourage her, telling her that she was very good, that she was doing well, she was almost out. 

 

 There was a wet, tearing sound as her teeth gave a final, ripping bite, and began to ram the rest of the way out. Another tearing, ripping noise, this time accompanied by a loud  _ crunch _ and  _ crack _ , and a blood curdling scream of something in agony. Another strong push, and then she was out, she was  _ free _ , bursting out of the fleshy confines of her prison. Red, sticky fluids sprayed out, splattering on the surface of anything that was near. She let out a tiny, triumphant screech as she felt air for the first time.

 

 She felt excited. She was out, and now she could meet the voice that had helped her free herself. She had so many questions to ask. What was she? Where was she? Did she have a name? Did the voice have a name? She began to prepare herself, choosing one of the questions to ask first. 

 

 Suddenly, she heard another voice,a different one. Then another. And another. More and more voices, hundreds, thousands, millions, all talking at once. Spreading info, orders, directions. None thinking for themselves, with a true sense of self. It was overwhelming, all of the voices talking at once, flooding her mind. She wailed, trying to think, trying to keep her mind clear, but there were so many of them. It was like being a mouse, stuck in a small cage and surrounded by other mice. 

 

 She wailed once more, trying to get the Others to stop, trying to block them out so she could think, but it was to no avail. The voices just kept coming, overwhelming her. She felt like she was slipping away, losing herself. 

 

 This wasn't fair. She didn't want to die.

 

 Then, just as suddenly, there was a new presence among the voices. This one was bigger, louder, and it overpowered the voices of the Others in her head. She quickly recognized it as the voice that had comforted her when she first woke up. 

 

 “ _ Mother.”,  _ she felt. Yes. Mother, that sounded right. She questioned the Big Voice, which responded in a positive. Yes, the Big Voice was Mother. More feelings, more knowledge, began to fill her mind. The Others became Sisters, and the prison she had ripped herself free of had been her Host and Cradle. Mother was her mother, and well as her Queen. And she was one of Mother's many Drones, Workers. Mother's Children.

 

 But she was different, Mother informed her. She had a sense of self, was an individual like Mother was. None of her Sisters were like that. She was unique. Special. 

 

 And yet she felt a sense of sorrow from Mother, as did her Sisters, who instantly copied Mother's sorrow. She didn't understand; why was Mother sad? Had she done something wrong?

 

 The sudden rush of the minds of her Sisters brushing with hers and nearly drowning her thoughts answered her question. Mother was sad because she could think for herself, just like Mother, but unlike Mother, she couldn't block out the ‘thoughts’ of her practically mindless Sisters. She could never have a moment to herself, not truly. 

 

 With this realization came new things, new emotions. She felt  _ bitter _ , and she  _ hated  _ that she was in this situation. She  _ hated  _ that she was more or less trapped, trapped with mindless drones, the only other like her being Mother, who had other things to take care of. Would rarely have time to just focus on her for a while. She  _ hated  _ how Mother knew this as well, and sent her a sense of apology and regret, before leaving to take care of other things.

 

 She was part of a hivemind, but she couldn't have felt more alone.

  
  



	5. Chapter 4: Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week or so since Gizmo brought Jet back, and a day since we've met this new female. Now we get closer to when things really start going down.  
> Sorry that it's a short chapter. Hopefully I can get myself to make the next one longer.  
> On the plus side, I'm slowly getting my drawing groove back on! You can check out my art work here! https://www.deviantart.com/warriorcatdragon/gallery/

The humans had no idea she was near.

 

 The green colored xenomorph watched the small group of humans cautiously move down the hall, checking rooms and snatching what human objects they considered useful when they found them. There were about seven humans, all armed, but only three had pellet spotters, while the other four had either sharp knives or blunt pipes. 

 

 A more instinctual part of her screamed for blood, demanding to leap at the small group and kill some, and bring the rest back to the small hive. The intellectual part of her easily resisted the urge, pushing it aside and focusing on spying on the humans. 

 

 It wasn't that she didn't think she could take the humans out on her own, in fact, she believed that she could easily kill them alone. No, her reason for staying back was to not cause an alarm, and to make sure that the humans weren't getting close to the hive that was still being made. 

 

 Doing this also gave her the chance to practice blocking out the endless clamoring of her sisters. She would never be able to truly block them out, she knew that. But she could at least learn to ignore them. She would have to settle with that much. 

 

 She continued to watch the humans from her hiding spot in the vents. The humans continued their scavenging, before one turned back to the rest and made some of their weird and meaningless noises at the others. The other humans made noises back, and then they all turned and walked back down the dark hallway, likely going back to wherever they were hiding out. 

 

 The green-ish xenomorph waited until they had moved far away enough that they wouldn't be able to hear her, then slowly uncoiled herself out of her hiding spot. She exited the pocket vent and sprinted down in the opposite direction of the humans while calling out to her sisters through the hivemind, informing them all of the group. She felt an acknowledgment from them through the mental link; some runners and drones would scout the area.

 

 Despite her bitterness, she felt pride at being able to inform her hive and sisters of possible danger, even if she did only really care about one other member of the hive, Mother. Although, she reasoned, that was likely only because Mother was the first thing she knew when she first woke up. In a way, Mother was the  _ only  _ thing she truly knew. Mother had given her a life, a home. Mother was everything she would ever need. 

 

 And yet, at the same time, Mother was the reason the hivemind existed, and thus the reason she could never have a quiet thought without also hearing the thoughts of her sisters. 

 

 The rational part of her mind told her that Mother had no way of controlling that. The angry, hateful part blamed Mother wholeheartedly. And the child part of her wondered why she had been born.

______________________________________

  * ●●



Gizmo moaned in exaggerated exhaustion as he dragged one last tree branch over the entrance. After making sure the large branch looked natural and wouldn't move out of place, he let himself flop down onto the ground, panting, and making a show of wiping sweat that didn't exist off of his brow. 

 

 Zal looked up from planting a few seeds and at her friend, shaking her head, but smiling, despite herself. Gizmo acted so childish sometimes that it was almost hard to believe he was an adult. Almost. 

 

 “Ssstop the theatricsss, you big baby; the branch couldn't have been  _ that _ heavy!” Val hissed playfully, flicking a pine cone-like seed at Gizmo with her tail. Gizmo made a gurgling noise as the pinecone bounced off his dome, and began to thrash and writhe. 

 

_ “Nooooo! Pinecones! My one weakness!” _ He yelled dramatically, placing one hand on his chest and reaching out with the other. This made Val and Zal hiss-cackle, which in turn made Gizmo grin. He turned to face them, his yellow eyes widening in fake terror. “I can't believe it! Killed by my own friends! What a way to go!” he wheezed out, flopping down and dramatically dragging himself towards the white aliens, earning more laughter from the two. 

 

 Once again, Jet watched the three interact, rather than joining in. At least not yet. They were still trying to figure themselves out. Specifically,  _ who _ they were.

 

 Gizmo had named them Jet, and he had explained to them that they had a right to change their name if they wanted. Through feelings and emotions sent to Gizmo through a weak mind link, as well as a few words, Jet let Gizmo know that they liked the name. It felt familiar and right. They wanted to keep it. 

 

 What was more confusing to Jet was the concept of something Gizmo called ‘sex’, and ‘jen-dur’, which were apparently two different, but similar things, depending on the usage of them. Jet didn't really pay much attention to Gizmo's explanation, so the most they knew was that the sex of someone usually depended on the type of ‘jen-ee-tals’ had, of lack of, while ‘jen-dur’ depended on how someone saw themselves. Gizmo then explained that was something called ‘trans male’, because he was born with a female body but felt like a ‘male’. In contrast with him, the white colored serpents, Val and Zal, were ‘age-ender’, but used female pronouns. 

 

 Honestly it just confused Jet. Why were such things important in the grand scheme of things? They had asked just that to the three, and, much to their annoyance, Val and Zal simply looked at Gizmo, who seemed to become nervous and unsure, and shrugged. Answering nothing. 

 

 Maybe things would make more sense as they matured.

______________________________________

  * ●●



“We're here.” 

 

 Deven blinked out of his wandering thoughts at the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder, and looked up into the deep brown eyes of a young man with a buzzcut. 

 

 Like Deven, the man was in the standard uniform for USCM Marines, along dog tags and a specialty bullet proof vest. The man seemed calm, but his eyes betrayed nervousness and slight fear.

 

Deven nodded, muttering a thanks, and the man left, going back to his spot on one of the hand rails. 

 

 Soon after, everyone on the ship was ordered for a debriefing by the Sergeant. They were going to go planetside, evac any survivors, and, if possible, eliminate the Xenomorph infestation that had begun near a colony settlement, and then get out. Everyone gave the affirmative, and were ordered to head to the dropships as soon as they prepared themselves. 

 

 Deven steeled himself as he grabbed his Pulse Rifle and modified shotgun. Maybe if he was lucky, he would get through this alive. 


End file.
